


Favourite Hunting Spot

by Lillydoesfanficstuff



Category: Witch's Heart (Video Game)
Genre: Its wilashe but not romantic, M/M, Neck stuff? Neck stuff., vampire Wil AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-13
Updated: 2019-08-13
Packaged: 2020-08-20 19:00:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 6,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20232784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lillydoesfanficstuff/pseuds/Lillydoesfanficstuff
Summary: Wilardo should probably change his favourite hunting spot, as someone’s noticed the frequency of his visits....





	1. Chapter 1

It had been a few years, no scratch that, a few centuries since Wilardo was turned. Not that Wilardo blamed his Old Man for turning him in the 1200s, that’s just how it was back then. Vampires were, and still are, a dying breed, you turned anyone you could to keep your bloodline going. Hell, who knew how many blood brothers and sisters Wil had. 

But it wasn’t as if Wilardo had asked to be turned, no, he was just minding his business, trying to making a living wage off of selling wild flowers and perfumes. Call him girly but he enjoyed it back then. After the Old guy turned him, he did basically raise Wilardo as his own, well, he kinda was now. 

Despite being taught how to drink, Wilardo decided to drink from the newly deceased. (That didn’t really help him out in the 14th century, he got the plague once, wasn’t fun, but he lived, sadly.) That mindset didn’t last very long, okay so it lasted at least 100 years but that doesn’t count when you’re undead. 

The point is, he doesn’t like to drink from living humans unless necessary. He still lives off the same dietary pattern from way back then. Drink heavily from a human to the point of memory loss, then go back to his hermit life for a fortnight. Kind of like a snake if you will. 

It’s the 21st century now, Wilardo is still as cynical as he was when he was first turned, probably even more so, knowing that all his loved ones are dead, not that he knew his real parents, but that cute girl from the bakery was definitely long gone. His Old Man? Who knew where the hell he was, Wil only heard from him every 50 odd years. He could be lying in a pool of his own blood with a wooden stake through his heart. 

Well, that put a downer on Wil’s day, night? It was dark outside. That meant it was night. Was it a Tuesday? He thought he heard someone say it was a Tuesday last time he was out. That was... 7 nights ago. So it’s Tuesday. And it’s feeding time. 

Wilardo yawned as he stretched. Time to make his way into town. Search around the club and bar areas, find some unsuspecting drunkard who definitely won’t remember what the neck wounds are in the morning. Intoxicated blood tasted horrid, but drunks were easy bait. 

He changed quickly. He didn’t buy clothes, just nicked things he liked off of victims. A hoodie from a college girl, bracelets off a festival frequenter. You know, the usual. 

The jeans he owned, he’d had for at least a decade. They weren’t full of holes when he took them. He’d nabbed them from someone’s luggage, he wouldn’t take trousers off someone’s unconscious body! He may be undead, but he still had morals. 

Shoes however, yeah he’d have those. Took a pair of designer trainers off some twat who wore sunglasses at night. He deserved it. 

The rundown town was the same as always. Unfinished construction and loads of litter. His favourite. The stench of garbage would have made him throw up if he was still human. That’s a perk of being undead, no acid reflux. Can’t bring anything up if you don’t need solid food. 

Finally, he reached his favourite haunt. An old decrepit bar, neon sign hanging onto its last lights, it used to say ‘Witch’s Heart’ back in the 70s. Now it just says ‘itch art’. Sad. 

Normally he was the only one outside, spare for the occasional chainsmoker. But today, there seemed to be a young couple chatting noisily outside it. A young woman in a short blue dress, and a young man in a dress shirt and suit trousers. 

They seem to be squabbling about something. Going into the bar? Ah whatever, Wilardo pushed in-between them, pleased by the man’s complaining about Wil’ manners. 

“Was he raised in a barn?!?” 

Wil’s earliest memory was of being a child working in a tanners. But close enough. He was still surrounded by animal shit on the daily. 

Wil chuckled at the mans comment, but doesn’t let that distract him from his goal. 

He felt eyes burning into his back, but he shrugged it off. He’s used to the stares at night. You’d think in 2019, people would be used to large eyebags and shaggy black hair. 

Finding the rusty jukebox, he stood in the corner besides it. Watching middle aged men make fools of themselves as they attempt to buy drinks for 20 something year old women. 

Wil would go intervene, but he doesn’t fancy being punched by someone’s dad. 

Eventually the guy gets bored of her cold behaviour, and moves back to his mates. Typical.

“Never works out for Gary.”

Wilardo jumped at the sudden voice besides him, and turns to see a clearly tipsy young man. 

He’s slim, with long hair ruined by bleach and teal hair dye. Wearing a tattered old green jacket, and tight jeans. 

The man noticed Wilardo scanning him, and raised an eyebrow. “Take me to dinner before you browse the menu, please and thank you.” 

Wilardo scoffed, and rolled his eyes. “You wouldn’t be my type even if you were the last man on Earth.” 

The man seemed offended, mouth agape, seemingly not expecting Wil to sass him back. 

“Sorry man, I’m not here to flirt, I’m looking for something else.” 

The man snorted. “You say that like I don’t see you in here every other week, scanning the room like a hungry wolf!” He laughed. “Am I not drunk enough for your tastes? I’ve noticed you only pick up the girls who are completely smashed. Are you so bad in bed you’d rather they forget it in the morning?” 

Wilardo stood in shock. He’d thought someone had been watching him whenever he came here. He knew he should have been alternating his haunts. How much did this guy know? 

“Pfft! Don’t look so scared!” He doubled over laughing, before placing a hand on Wil’s shoulder. “I haven’t been arsed enough to follow you out of here yet!” 

The man held out his hand to Wilardo.  
“The name’s Ashe. Call me what you want, I’m a tad bit infamous here.” 

Wilardo took the hand cautiously.  
“Wil. Uh, just Wil is fine.” 

Ashe takes his hand back, pleased.  
“Well, Wil! Nice to finally put a name to a face. You’re nearly as well-known as I am here!” 

Wil’s eyes widen. “H-how many others know of me?” 

“Pfft, I jest! It’s only the wine aunts thinking you’re a tall, dark, and handsome stranger who’s going to whisk them away to your lovenest~”

Wilardo cringed at that. Wine. His Old Man used to drink that when he wanted to relive his humanity. Gave Wilardo a sip and he nearly gagged at the stuff. All he tasted was bitter grape juice. 

“Oh dang, didn’t like that one huh?” Ashe is leaning against Wilardo now.  
“It’s not so bad being desired by old biddies who are old enough to be your mother, trust me.” 

Wilardo is old enough to be those women’s great great great gREAT grandfather. 

“Ouch, don’t roll your eyes like that! Gives me the heebie jeebies!” Ashe shuddered, taking a sip of the unknown beverage he’d nabbed from a nearby table. The sickly pink colour of it meant it couldn’t be healthy. 

“Gross.” 

“Mm? Oh I know that, but it’s cheaper to snatch an unconscious biddies pinkity drink than buy one myself.” Ashe responded, finishing off the drink, and placing it back on the table. “That’s just how it be, uni student life.” 

Of course, he’s a uni kid. 

“Don’t worry man, I’m of age~” 

That doesn’t change the fact that Ashe is an obnoxious and intoxicated university fuck up. 

“Sure.” Wilardo sighed, rubbin his temples. The music was getting too loud. He needed to find a victim, and quick, or he was going to get withdrawal pains. 

“Oh~?” Ashe had leant over, his face right up in Wilardo’s personal space. “You doing okay buddy? You haven’t even had a drink yet, although.... I haven’t ever seen you drinking here...” 

“Shove off.” Wil nudged him away. “I don’t drink alcohol, I’m not that disgusting.” 

That caused Ashe to step back, and eye Wilardo up and down. He was second guessing, Wil could tell. 

“What... are you even doing at a bar anyway?” 

Wilardo had had enough at this point, he was ravenous, and no one else had approached him, and this Ashe guy... well he wasn’t leaving. He knew too much, and Wil would have to take him out anyway. Why not kill two birds with one stone? 

“So, you want to know why I regularly haunt this bar?” Wilardo had grabbed Ashe by his thin wrist. 

Ashe nodded, but Wilardo also noticed his eyes widen, and a gulp. 

“Come with me.” 

Wilardo led him out of the bar, not caring if he or Ashe bumped into anyone. Once outside, the cool night air hit their faces, it was calming. 

Ashe hadn’t wriggled out of Wil’s grasp yet. He’d taken the bait. 

“Where... are we going?” Ashe’s eyelashes fluttered, and Wil could see he was slightly scared. 

“Trust me.” Wilardo grabbed Ashe’s other wrist, leading him to the side of the bar, and down into an alleyway. 

Ashe let himself be led, as Wilardo lead him to a wall. 

“Are you comfortable?” Wilardo removed his hands from Ashe’s wrists, moving one to Ashe’s tiny waist, and the other to the wall. 

Ashe nodded, as his blushed face was illuminated from the neon sign. Poor fucker, he had no clue what he was in for. 

Wilardo took the nod as consent, and started kissing at Ashe’s neck, and Ashe moved his head to allow Wilardo more access, as his arms snaked their way around Wilardo’s neck.

Wil smirked against the pale neck, and gave a test bite, Ashe mewled, indicating he was enjoying it. 

Time to go further, Wilardo bit down harder, and sucked on Ashe’s neck, creating a dark bruise. Ashe grabbed tighter around Wilardo. He was clearly desperate for this. 

Letting go, Wil sighed, and Ashe seemed disappointed as Wil let go.

“Can I go further?” Ever the gentleman, Wilardo asked. 

Ashe nodded quickly, and stretched his neck even further. 

Wil smirked, and he adjusted his jaw, releasing his fangs in the process. Something Ashe wouldn’t be able to see in the dark. Wilardo bit again, deeply into the flesh. 

Ashe yelped. “Be careful!” 

To distract Ashe as he fed, Wilardo used the hand on Ashe’s waist to rub against the inside of Ashe’s thigh. 

Ashe melted, giving Wilardo the ability to feed in peace. 

It didn’t take long for Wil to taste blood. That delicious iron filled liquid. Despite Ashe being tipsy, his blood was like a breath of fresh air from the full intoxicated blood Wilardo had been drinking recently. 

He tried not to make too many noises, or slurp. That was rude, and would likely alert Ashe to what was going on.

Wil must have been halfway through a gallon, before Ashe started to go limp. He wasn’t exactly unconscious, but he was definitely wavering, and Wilardo was full. 

He unlatched, and let his fangs retract, swallowing that last, tasty gulp of blood. His hands went to Ashe’s waist, helping him steady himself. 

“Careful,” Wil said, as Ashe placed his hands on Wilardo’s shoulders. “You’re going to be woozy a good while.” 

Ashe groaned, as his left hand went to his forehead, he squinted at Wilardo. “...what?” 

“No questions.” Wilardo shushed him. “You’ve held up pretty well, but you’re going to be out like a light in... a minute maybe?” 

“...why?” Ashe stumbled into Wilardo’s arms, as his legs gave through. 

“Not important,” Wil looked around, he could see people on the street, meaning he couldn’t just leave Ashe in this alley. “Do you live near here?” 

Ashe nodded, and pointed up. “2nd floor, above bar...” 

Of course, that would explain why Ashe was a regular at the bar. 

Luckily, the building had stairs on the side of it. 

Wilardo shuffled around, adjusting himself so he was carrying Ashe princess style. He grumbled as he had to clamber up the iron stairs. He hated the noise of footsteps on metal. 

“Have you got keys to this side door?” Wilardo winced as he jostled Ashe, waking him. 

Ashe only had enough energy to gesture towards his jacket pocket. 

Wilardo rolled his eyes, putting Ashe down on the metal platform, as he searched through the pocket.  
“Gotcha!” Wilardo pulled out the keys, as they jangled. Luckily, a past Ashe had labeled them, so the fire exit/ side door key was quick to find. 

Opening, the door, Wilardo picked Ashe up again, his apartment was clean, but basic. He spotted a sofa, and plopped Ashe down on it, and putting the keys on the table. 

That was Wil’s signal to leave. He tiptoed out, and shut the door softly. 

He didn’t care if Ashe got robbed due to the open door, served him right for watching Wilardo every time he came into the bar. 

Guess that was a reason for Wilardo to change his favourite hunting spot huh?


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A second chapter, is this a series? Who knows! Ashe’s perspective this chap!

Light shone through the blinds, and the nooks and crannies in the walls. Irritating Ashe’s hangover headache, he groaned, getting up off the sofa, a crick in his back from sleeping funny. Why did he sleep on the sofa last night? He never did that. That sofa was saved for Claire, on nights when her beloved roommate Sirius kicked her out. 

Ashe didn’t care for either of them, but he was raised too politely to turn her away. 

Ashe winced as he staggered into view of the door. 

‘Strange...’ He thought, as he noticed his keys had been thrown on the floor. Ashe would have never left his keys lying around so haphazardly. Picking them up, he noticed the door’s latch wasn’t on. He always latched the door after he locked it, no matter how inebriated he was. 

Upon closer look, and with a gentle push, it was revealed the front door was open. That was when the frantic panic started. 

“Shit!” Ashe darted around the tatty apartment. Second hand radio was still there, his clock, his kitchen untensils... 

The bedroom! He had to check the bedroom. 

Despite the pain and dizziness, he lept into action, and headed into the tiny side-room. 

A quick glance showed the room was still tidy, his laptop was still on his desk, and still had a cracked screen. 

Crouching down, Ashe reached under the bed, pulling out the mini safe down there. Entering the passcode, and unlocking it, he pulled out a small, tatty photograph album. He sighed with relief as he flicked through it, his precious family album... was safe. 

He hugged the album tight as he slumped on the floor besides his single bed. Steadying his breath, he released his grip on the album, and gently placed it back in the safe, locked the safe, and pushed the safe back under the bed. 

Panic over. Nothing had been taken. Well, nothing of any importance. Things like laptops were easily replaceable, family memories were not. 

Now that that was all sorted, Ashe could nurse his hangover on his day off. How much did he drink? Claire and Sirius were supposed to meet him in the bar, did they let him get this intoxicated? Did they let him go home by himself?

He would have to have a word with them. Call themselves friends and they’re not even here to care for him after their night on the town? 

He tutted, before rubbing his neck, which was strangely sore. Pulling his hand away, a crumbly substance came with.

“Blood?” It must be old, judging by the crusty brown colour. Did he hurt himself in the bar? And in such an awkward place? 

Last night really wasn’t making sense. Ashe was not a black out drunk, nor was he THAT big a drinker. He needed to get to the bottom of this. He’d have to ask Claire what happened when he saw her this afternoon. 

-

“Ashe!” He was bombarded by a bundle of blue energy, causing him to nearly topple over, luckily a nearby tree helped him keep steady. 

As Claire de-attached herself, Ashe brushed off the debris he’d gotten off her clothes.

“Good morning.” He heard Sirius greet from behind her. Sirius is giving him a stern look. How overprotective he is, just because he’s known Claire since they were children he sees Ashe as some danger to her? Charming, he’s always been like this. 

“Hello to you too, Sirius.” Ashe gave a sickly sweet smile, it felt fake to smile when he felt like utter shit, but he still needed to keep up the politeness. 

“Oh Ashe! You look horrid!” Claire placed a hand against his forehead. “You’re so pale! Are you ill? What happened last night?” 

He swatted her hand away, “I was hoping that you two would enlighten me to that.” 

Claire tilted her head in confusion. “What do you mean?” 

“What happened last night at the bar, is what I mean.” Ashe massaged his temple. The sun was way to bright out here. 

Now it was Sirius’ turn to interfere. “You fool! We never met at the bar!” 

Now it was Ashe’s turn to be confused. “What?” 

“Oh yeah!” Claire piped up. “The bartender told us, that she saw you leave with some guy before we got to the counter!” 

Some guy? Well that didn’t help. 

“Tch, you are a piece of work Ashe Bradley, standing up your dear friends to hook up with a stranger!” Ah, now that explained the dirty look he was getting. 

“I did not! At least, I don’t remember hooking up with anyone...” Ashe furrowed his brow, trying to recollect memories, but nothing. 

“Oh we don’t want to judge you, but it was kind of a letdown.” Claire frowned at him. “I guess he must have been extremely attractive huh?” 

Well, he would hope that he wouldn’t have let some gross creep neck on with him when drunk. Ashe adjusted the collar of his dress shirt in embarrassment.

“You can’t even deny it!” Sirius poked at his neck, and then gestured to the newly exposed collarbone. “Whoever it was has even marked you, you floozie!” 

Shit. A hickey? Ashe’s eyes darted to Claire for confirmation. She simply held up a pocket mirror for Ashe to see for himself.

Clear as day, dark purple bruises stood in stark contrast to pale skin on his collarbone and neck. The neck wound was also accompanied by two tiny, but noticeable dark brown puncture wounds. 

“Damn...” Ashe muttered, tilting his head to get a better look. “Guess I’ll have to start putting foundation on again...” He grumbled, and did up even the top button of his shirt. The bruise was still visible, but wasn’t as noticed against the dark blue fabric. 

“Oh Ashe...” Claire gave him a sympathetic smile. “At least it won’t happen again right?” 

“Right.” 

Time to switch his favourite drinking spot up huh? He didn’t want to run into whoever the culprit was again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ddkrkfjdjnfndnfdkf PLEAAAASe leave feedback if you enjoyed, and if you want this fic to be ship based or not! I’ve been holding back on writing Ch 3 before releasing this one Oop-


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s feeding time once again

It was hunting time once again, as Wilardo’s stomach growled and the yearning for blood reared it’s ugly head once more. 

Only thing his, he couldn’t visit his favourite haunt, now that he knew that Ashe would be watching, waiting for him. He’d have to go elsewhere. The other end of town perhaps? 

It would take a while to trek down to that side, seeing as the bar he frequented was the closest to the outskirts in which he resided. 

Ugh, the things he had to go through to avoid detection. 

-

He grumbled, shaking his hair as he entered the unknown bar. A downside to not keeping up with human culture, was not knowing about weather. How was he supposed to know that a freak rainstorm would start? 

It wasn’t like his hair had been styled before the rain though, only combed briskly. Still, being wet was never fun, he wouldn’t be able to warm himself up without warm blood in his body. 

Time to go seek refuge by the radiator. It’s sweet, sweet warmth welcomed him as he pulled a stool near. He was way too weary to stand and wait for a poor soul to walk past him. 

His eyes scanned the room, he didn’t know this bar well enough to know who was a regular, who was going to get shit faced, and who had friends with them. Never target someone with friends, friends who are sober enough will always come looking. 

That was a mistake a much younger Wilardo had made. 

Scanning the room once more, Wilardo saw just the fucking thing he was trying to avoid by coming to this distant location. 

Badly dyed bright teal hair, tied into a loose braid. Crisp dress shirt paired with a waistcoat. How pretentious, and shirt collar buttoned all the way up? Well, Wilardo knew exactly what was being hidden there. 

Why? Because Wilardo knew he’d left some very deep bite marks on that pale neck a few weeks ago. 

The mark would have been gone by now, but by the way Ashe’s hand kept going to scratch at his neck, it obviously wasn’t being left to heal. 

Luckily Ashe hadn’t seen him yet. So he could sneak out of this bar no biggie. He’d never know he was here. Perfect. 

Wilardo stood up, and the iron deficient dizziness kicked in, causing his legs to wobble slightly. 

Okay, that’s not an issue, he can still make it to the door. 

He soldiered on. 

He wobbled halfway to the door, before his legs fully gave in, and his head felt like mush as he collapsed.

But he didn’t crash to the floor, instead he ended up caught by some thin arms. 

He used the last of his strength to glance up at the face of the person who caught him, only to be greeted with a grimace and disdain of the purple haired man he’d pushed past at the Witch’s Heart bar, with his female friend and Ashe peering at him from over this grumpy man’s shoulder.

That was the last thing Wilardo remembered seeing before he passed out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaaa short chapter today, sorry! But I wanted to update! And it felt right to leave the chapter at that point teehee >:3c


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The afterparty....

Why did it have to be him? Why, out of all people, did this drunk guy have to fall on his friend? 

Many questions similar were going through Ashe’s head as he was sitting in the back of Sirius’s car with a stranger conked out, head on Ashe’s lap. 

Like, where was Claire? Obviously she was still in the pharmacy they were parked outside, buying bottled water and paracetamol for their unwanted guest. 

Where was Sirius? Paying for the bottled water and paracetamol of course. Helps to have a rich friend when you’re broke uni students. 

“Mrmmrm...” 

Great. The stranger moved groggily on Ashe’s lap, dark hair messily covering his face. 

Ashe sighed, and brushed the hair out of the way. It’s a face Ashe has seen before, albeit from across crowds of drunken idiots. Attractive, stern, faint wrinkles and large eye-bags, but they don’t take away from the handsome face. He’s got a defined nose, looks like it’s been broken before, by the ridge bump, and there’s a light scar on his left eyebrow. 

Not that Ashe is studying his face or anything. He’s just bored in this car by himself with this sleeping stranger, who is the only thing he could focus on.

He’s moved again, and he’s squinting his eyes up at Ashe. He’s definitely not happy. 

“Hrr... Shit.” The stranger grumbled. Covering his eyes with a hoodie sleeve. “Not you again...” 

Now that didn’t sit right with Ashe. He had no memory of talking to this man, let alone know him enough to elicit this response. 

“I even went to that bar to avoid you, after you’d said you’d noticed my visits...” he’s slurring his words now. “Shit... now I’ve gotta change my hunting grounds completely... I’ll have to jump town...” 

“E-excuse me?” Ashe spat. “Look, just because I’ve seen you a few times leaving with women doesn’t mean I’m spreading rumours about you being a manwhore, that’s on yourself and the women!” 

The man’s eyes widen. “Wha- m-manwhore?” He tried to push himself up, but his arms buckle and he fell back into Ashe’s lap. 

“Look, you’re obviously too drunk for this conversation, lets wait for Claire to get back with water and-“

“I’m not drunk.” 

“Uh... what?” 

“I’m not drunk, I don’t drink, ever.” His arm is over his eyes again. “I just... I’m iron deficient... I need... to get my iron levels up.” 

Well that’s a strange way to word things. 

“So, you’re anemic?” Ashe asked, looking down at this grumpy mess of a man. “Do you want me to ask Claire to buy you something to eat when she gets back?” 

“No, no, that won’t help.” He swatted his hand like he was swatting away an idea. 

“Look, I’m a medical student, I’m pretty sure I know what you need to deal with an iron deficient period.” 

“Look, you have no idea what I am, and what I need.” The man grumbled once more, before changing his tone. “How much longer are your friends going to take?” 

“Well, they’re probably going to be another five minutes or so...” 

“Just enough time.” 

Ashe didn’t know what happened, it was as if he blinked, and suddenly this man was latched onto his neck. 

Ashe suddenly felt faint, as blood started rushing to his neck, was it from his head? Most likely, that would explain the sudden dizziness, and how hard it was to stay conscious. 

It didn’t take long for the man to let go of Ashe, letting Ashe go limp into the car seat, only just conscious. 

He could see the blood dripping from the man’s mouth, coating his teeth.... were those fangs? Whatever, Ashe was too dazed to full piece together anything. 

“Shit.... you’re definitely not going to forget this a second time...” the man cursed under his breath, as he wiped the blood from Ashe’s neck on a hanker-chief from his trouser pocket. “I really am going to have to move towns...” 

Then the car door opened and closed, and he was gone. 

Ashe sighed, as he felt his eyes close and he drifted to sleep in the back of Sirius’s car.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OwO whats this??? A double upload??? Do you guys like this POV shift every other chapter? Let me know!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wilardo visits an old friend before he jumps town.

Fuck. Shit. Fuck fuck fuck. 

Wilardo cursed himself out, as he hurriedly stashed his little belongings into a tattered old suitcase. He nabbed it in the Victorian Era, it’s a miracle it’s still holding together. 

Lets see, jeans, shirts, hoodies.... shoes... he’d have to stop by an old friend to see if he could nab a few blood bags for his journey. 

It helped having a nearby vampire buddy. Even if he was a quivering pussy who refused to drink from humans. 

Pfft, like robbing hospitals of their blood transfusion supplies wasn’t harming humans even more. 

Well, Wilardo couldn’t judge him, Noel was but a fledgling. He still had a lot to learn, considering he was still living with the woman who turned him as well. 

And considering said woman hated Wilardo’s guts, he’d need to be extra careful to make sure that she wasn’t home. 

Right now he truly wished that vampires being able to turn into bats wasn’t just a myth, it would be so much easier to jump town that way. 

He closed the case, locked it, and started his journey to Rouge’s mansion. 

-

Grumbling, he finally reached the accursed building. The place looked completely abandoned, with cobwebs and police tape galore. But that was all a cheap ploy to trick humans, or lure the odd one in as a snack. If you were idiotic to enter into a mansion where people had been disappearing for centuries you deserve to be drank dry. 

Considering Rouge’s carnivorous feeding patterns, it was a surprise she took pity on a near dead kid and turned the poor bastard. 

Rouge herself was a purebred vampire, she was said to have royal blood, so she rarely turned anyone ever. 

Noel was the first person she’d turned in almost 50 decades now, it must be. 

Wilardo only found out when he bumped into the boy shaking like a leaf when Wilardo broke in the last time. 

But now Wil was mates with the kid, he was able to wall straight through the front door and avoid a potential turf war.... 

As long as Rouge wasn’t home, that is. 

“Ah, Mr Adler! Good evening, come in!” Noel greeted him, Wilardo simply nodded at him, and shuffled out of his boots. 

“Hey Noel.” He raised a hand in a greeting. “You don’t happen to have any blood bags spare do you?” 

Noel blinked in confusion, tilting his head, letting his floppy blond hair fall off his face to show both his deep blue eyes. “Well of course, but I’m sure you said you prefer to drink from... humans.” 

Wilardo sighed. “Yeah, course I do, but I need to jump town, so I’ll need a supply for on the road, you get me?” 

Noel nodded, understanding completely. 

“Jumping town you say, Adler?” 

Shit. She’s here. 

And there she was, her long red hair framing her face, as her ruby red lips curved into a grin, exposing her always present fangs. She had draped herself atop the grand staircase, a dark maroon evening gown accentuating her hourglass figure. 

“Rouge...” Wilardo grimaced. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” 

Rouge snickered, lifting a hand to play with a lock of hair. “Really, I should be the one asking you that.” 

Her expression became dark, brows furrowed and smile gone. “What are you doing on my land, talking to my fledgling?” 

Ah, he’d forgotten about her new Mother Hen instinct. 

“Don’t worry, I’m not here to ruin your son’s pure heart.” He snarked back. “I just want some blood bags, and then I’m off, and this town will be your sole hunting grounds once more, just as you like it.”

Rouge descended the stairs gracefully, her brows were unfurrowed, but her frown still stayed. “That’s not the issue Adler, what trouble could you possibly have caused to make you finally leave?” 

She gestured for him to come inside, to which Wilardo complied, and Noel suggested they sit in the parlour room. 

-

“Ah I see...” Rouge sipped her wine. Disgusting stuff, Wil had no idea why she indulged in it even though she was undead. “You’ve gotten yourself an admirer.” 

“I wouldn’t call him that.” Wil corrected her. “More like, he’s been watching my every move in my hunting grounds for the past few months, and I’ve drank from him twice. If he sees me one more time, the jig is up, he’ll definitely get suspicious and come looking.” 

“Why don’t you just kill him, and save the hassle?” Rouge sighed, swilling her goblet. 

“You know that’s against my morals.”

“You’re a vampire, Adler, how strong can your morals truly be?” 

Wilardo rolled his eyes, and rocked back on his chair, much to Rouge’s disdain. “Obviously stronger than yours, you don’t even stick by your rule of leaving the rare fledgling to fend for themself anymore.” 

He gestured at Noel, who had been ordered to clean a nearby room, still in Rouge’s eyesight. 

“He was a special case, I couldn’t just let a child go out into the world by himself, he would have been fried alive on day two!” 

“You baby him, Rouge, admit it.” 

She grumbled, before downing the rest of her wine. “Just take your blood bags and go, you’re getting on my nerves and your stench is assaulting my nostrils!” 

Well then. That wasn’t very polite of her. 

He flipped her the bird as he got up to leave. “Remember, one day he’ll fly the nest.” 

She scowled as Wil finally walked out the door, suitcase and blood bags in hand. 

Now where should he flee to?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys weren’t wondering if the demons were going to turn up or not! Well uh, surprise! They’re all vampires. Duh.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ashe goes home for the holidays.

Good things always come to an end, and whilst this university year wasn’t seeming like a good one, it meant that Ashe’s time in his dreary old apartment was up, for the holidays at least. 

He wished Claire and Sirius goodbyes as they head North to Claire’s mother and grandmother’s house for the winter. As Ashe himself began packing for his lonely journey to the far end of the country, to a dreary and lonely childrens ward, to be with his sister for Christmas. 

With his parents working full time and being called in even when not working, and him being a med student who is soon to graduate, and will be thrust into a doctorate... Christmas was really the only day he had with them. 

That’s why family memories were so important, because they were only made once a year. 

He packed the beloved family photo album, as well as his laptop and the obvious clothes. A spare set of apartment keys, and his phone. He couldn’t overpack his suitcase, considering he was taking the train. 

It does suck when you can’t drive. Maybe one day he’ll have the time to learn? 

Nah.

-

The trains are busy. He groaned, crowded and loud, and so much sweat. It’s horrid.

And he made sure to get a night train to avoid this mess. He kept thinking he can see familiar people in the sea of strangers. But he can’t remember knowing anyone with dark hair with one red streak. 

Although he has been missing chunks of his memory recently, he should bring it up with his father. It’s likely stress related. 

His hand itches at his neck, the wound from before had reopened recently, though Ashe wasn’t sure why, and was now scabbing over again. Irritating. 

Ah, that was his train. Platform 4, ten minutes time. 

That meant he didn’t have to rush, he could take his time. Check he had all his things. His ticket? Yes. Walllet? Yes. Phone? Yes. Suitcase? Yes. 

Okay. Lets go. 

-

It was a five hour train, and finally, getting to his home station made him breath a sigh of relief. Safe from all the darn mishaps he had to deal with. 

No bars, no... nothing. Peaceful.

Although he swore he saw that familiar dark hair again... must be a trick of the light. No one travels this far unless they want to run away into the woods or they have family here. 

Ashe shook it off, and hailed a taxi. 

-

Getting home, it was no surprise that the house was empty, and unloved. His parents had known he was coming, but there was no welcome party, or even someone to answer the door. 

The only way he got inside was the key hidden under the doormat. 

A note on the hallway table told him that there was a microwave meal in the fridge for Ashe. 

Thanks parents. 

-

Alone in this big house by himself, it was... eerie. Strange even. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong, even though there wasn’t anything odd going on. 

Maybe he was feeling unwell? He had been travelling for pretty long, he probably needed a lie down. 

He finished up the microwave meal and headed upstairs to his old room. 

The family photos that used to line the wall against the stairs had now been changed out for miscellaneous paintings. 

Ashe remembered what each of rhe old photos were, and he glanced at his suitcase by the door. At least he had his own family memories with him at all times. Even if his parents didn’t want to join attention to the fact they had children. 

It was easier on them to not have to explain to colleagues where their son and daughter were. 

Their terminally ill daughter and their gay son who could never give them the grandchildren they wanted. 

You’d think that logical people such as Ashe’s parents would have a modern view on homosexuality, but no, they’re still old fashioned in that regard. 

It didn’t matter to Ashe. He still loved them as his parents, and he wasn’t here to see them anyway. He was here so Lilia could have a good time with her family. 

His room still looked the same as when he’d left it last time, except for the cobweb on the windowsill. 

He’d empty his suitcase tomorrow, for now, he needed a rest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huffkdmfkfkkfkdjfknfkfjfk sorry its short but happy halloween month!


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wilardo gets to a checkpoint

Wil sighed to himself as he settled in a nearby town for the night. He hadn’t yet reached his destination, but this would do for now. 

Modern towns always were so much more accommodating to the supernatural citizens. He thanked the stars that the tiny settlement that was here a few centuries ago was now a bustling town, with it’s own blood-bank and all that jazz. 

The building was just a normal human bank on the outside, but if you went down the alleyway and in the back entrance, god, you were greeted with the intense aroma of other vampires. 

Wilardo had never believed that vampire families all had their own smell, until he met Rouge, and she complained of his own odour. 

Apparently he smelt soily. 

It would make sense, Wil’s old man definitely wasn’t from a high class vampiric background. Unlike Rouge, who smelt like fermented fruits, a nice smell, if you could handle her hostile personality. 

Noel also had the same smell as Rouge, much fainter, but it was there. He was still a fledgling, so he mostly still smelt like human to Wil. 

But this blood bank, god, the smell was overwhelming, and Wilardo definitely felt underdressed amongst the nighttime alumni of this town. 

“Hello sir, how can i help you?” A sweet voice from the desk came, and Wil snapped back to reality and made his way over from the door. 

“Uh hey, I’m new in town, do you have a storing system here? Can’t really keep blood fresh in my suitcase for long.” 

The receptionist nodded, and Wil finally got a good look at her. Cute pale face, framed by long pink hair, she was dressed rather formally for a receptionist, and every time she smiled, Wil could see she had rather large fangs. A pure blood for sure.   
“Of course, could I get a name, sir?”

“Adler, just Adler is fine.” 

She raised an eyebrow at that.  
“No first name, Mr Adler?”

“Wilardo, Wilardo Adler.”

She grinned.  
“I thought it was you, I’ve heard a great many things from my beloved sister about you.” 

And that’s when the fermented fruit scent started to waft into Wilardo’s nostrils.  
“Rouge.”

“Why yes, honestly, I was quite surprised to see you blocking our doorway, Rouge says you’re a bit of a hermit, and that you have a drinking routine that you never break.” 

“Ah, yeah...” Wilardo looked down at the girl’s nametag, Zizel. Huh, fitting name. “I ran into some trouble, can I leave my blood bags here?”

Zizel simply nodded, and handed Wilardo a keycard.   
“That’s for your own personal vault, it’s really just a cold locker, but it works for us, most vampires nowadays keep their stock in fridges in their house though.” 

Wilardo rolled his eyes, Zizel knew full well he didn’t have a house. 

“I jest, feel free to use our facilities to your heart’s undead desires, Mr Adler, you are a family friend, after-all.” 

Wil wasn’t going to argue with that logic, he thanked Zizel and headed towards the vaults, stashing his few leftover blood bags away. 

Just as he was about to leave, Zizel caught his sleeve.  
“You don’t have a place to sleep tonight, do you?” 

“Obviously not.” What was she getting at? 

“I have a spare room, if you’d like it.” Zizel gave him a soft smile. “And it is Christmas season afterall, I can’t just let you be on your own in the cold during the holidays now, can I?” 

Wilardo snorted. “You’re a real mother hen type huh? I thought pure bloods didn’t celebrate religious holidays?” 

“Well, you don’t have to be religious to want to give to those in need.” 

In need? Well that was a little harsh.

“Just give it a think, my door is always open, okay?” She finally let go of Wilardo’s jacket sleeve. 

He nodded begrudgingly, and made his way out of the blood bank, tattered suitcase in hand. 

Fuck, it was cold out here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has 666 words and I find that fitting. Sorry for not being active with updates I’ve been ill lately and am in recovery rn Orz I hope y’alls are staying safe in these times tho. Ilyall 💖💖💖

**Author's Note:**

> CHoohxhxiofyodyody I’ve been kiiiinda scared to post this ahah... I’ve had some troubles with WItch’s Heart fans before so like,,,, please be nice in the comments!!! Idk if I should make this multi chaptered OOP


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